Too many secrets
by TheMezzinator
Summary: Ziva shares a childhood experience with Tony. another story in my fluffy AU.


Too many secrets

A/N: another story set in my fluffy Tiva universe. This one is a prequel to 'Perfect Moment' and 'Mine, All Mine'

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Ziva POV

I remember the moment quite clearly. It was the day Alessandra was born. Literally hours so. Tony and I were having another argument. More a discussion really. He was sitting on one end of the couch in our apartment while I was stretched out on it with my head resting in his lap.

"I wish you would tell me what you're thinking," he asked. I looked up and saw the concern etched in his face. He so worries about me. He feels, as the man of the family, that I need protecting even though he knows I do not. It is an endearing trait. It is part of what makes him such a wonderful husband and father. But, at that moment, it was a very large pain in my butt.

"I'm not thinking about anything," I replied. Not true. At the time, I was very nervous about what kind of parent I would be. My mother had been very kind and loving. Everything a mother was supposed to be. My father, on the other hand. It's odd. I have such fond memories of my childhood. All the survival exercises he took Tali and me on. The hand-to-hand combat training. At the time, all I wanted to do was please him. Now, I will be happy if I never see him again. He stopped being my father when he abandoned me in Somalia. But, I digress.

"If you want to talk about it, whatever _it_ is, I'm right here for you, Ziva," he said calmly.

"Tony, please," I implored. "I just want to lie here with you, okay?" True. His lap is sooo comfortable.

Tony sighed. I knew that sound intimately. It meant he knew there was something bothering me but was uncertain of how to proceed. "When am I going meet the real Ziva?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I replied, trying to find a way to deflect his inquiries. "You know more about me than anyone else."

"Do I?" he shot back, then immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. It's just that there are times when I feel I don't know you at all. And, that's wrong. Call me naive, but we've taken our partnership to a whole new level. We shouldn't be keeping secrets from each other. Look where that got us last year."

He was right, of course. Secrets nearly ended our future together. Secrets caused Michael's death. Secrets resulted in me being tortured for weeks in Somalia. But, what do you do when keeping a secret can make the difference between life and death?

Knowledge is power. The less someone knows about you, the less they can hurt you. Disinformation can be a important means of survival. Mix one part truth with two part lies and the hunter will never truly know you. Thus protecting yourself. That is what Mossad taught me. Never let anyone get to close.

But, what if that someone is the person you have come to love and cherish above all others. The man you have married and has fathered your child? He trusts me implicitly. He loves me and our unborn child. Why does life have to be so complicated?

I lay there for a while longer, not knowing what to say. How does one overcome a lifetime of training? I rubbed my belly for a bit then smiled as he placed his hand on top of mine.. We both smiled as Alessandra kicked heartily.

What do I say? How do I say it? Do I want to tell him about the many horrible things I've seen and done over the years? I am no saint. The blood of many is on my hands. I have few regrets about my life as a Mossad officer. The people I killed were enemies of Israel, who either had a direct or indirect hand in killing Israeli citizens. I was always careful not to inflict civilian casualties and always said a brief prayer for the dead the few times it did happen. Those memories and experiences are a part of who I am. How do I tell the man I love these things? What will happen when our children find out what kind of person there mother is? Was?

"Do you remember the time we were trapped in the shipping container?" I finally said.

Tony laughed. "That's hard to forget. Why?"

If I had been paying more attention at that time, I would have noticed that Alessandra was getting ready to make her appearance. Instead, I continued, shifting my position slightly as I felt a slight twinge, "Do you remember the questions you asked me: what was my funniest memory? My most embarrassing moment?"

"First time you realized Daddy wasn't perfect?" he finished for me. "Yeah, I remember." I could sense his confusion as he considered where the conversation was going.

"I was eight," I said, "Momma, Tali and I had just returned home from clothes shopping. Mostly for Tali, but I picked up a few blouses and pants, too. I remember there was this one blouse. I thought it was so beautiful. When I got back to my room, I pulled it out of the bag and ran to the room my poppa used as an office. I stopped at the doorway when I heard him talking."

Thinking back on that moment now, I realize how much Tony's silence just then meant to me. He gave me the time to collect my thoughts, never saying anything. The depths of his compassion have never ceased to amaze me. Our children are so fortunate to have him as their father.

"I came in partway through the conversation. I can clearly remember him speaking on the phone and telling someone that, no matter what, the target had to die before the coming Shabbat. Even if it meant destroying the entire building."

Tony whistled.

I remember idly toying with the Star of David on my necklace. "Two days later, I heard a report on the TV about an apartment building in Gaza being destroyed in a freak accident. Many lives were lost. My father seemed quite smug when he saw the news report."

"Did your dad like the blouse?" Tony said, trying to deflect the painful memory.

I smiled wanly. "He never saw it. I never wore it. Momma was standing behind me when I overheard my father. She understood when I tried to throw it in the trash and, instead, returned it to the store for a different blouse."

"I'm never going to be like him," Tony swore. I think he understood how much of a risk I had taken in telling him that. To reveal such a private moment to him. I fell in love with him all over again when he lifted me up and kissed me more tenderly than he had ever before. I knew from that moment on all my secrets would be safe with him.

"I know, my love," I said, somewhat breathlessly after the kiss. Oh, that man knows how to kiss. "You are a far better person than he will ever be."

"Our kids will grow up knowing their Ima and Aba will always love them and be there for them," he promised me.

"I know, my love. I know," I told him, wincing again in pain. Something felt, well, not wrong but not right. "Tony?"

"Yes, Ziva," he said, clearly preoccupied.

"Tony!"

"Yes, Ziva," he said urgently, realizing something had happened.

"I think my water just broke."


End file.
